


Nothing special

by Hanatamago2204 (Bambi_Eyes)



Series: DenNor Drabbles [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Cute, Fluff, M/M, Sappy, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 21:54:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7286131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bambi_Eyes/pseuds/Hanatamago2204
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Norway wants to go on a date and has a question to ask. They do it in style, nothing special.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing special

Norway is a sap. A really big one. He loves all the things you see in those romantic movies. The whole holding hands while walking on the beach, the breakfast in bed on a Sunday morning, the kisses exchanged underneath the stars? Yes, all of that. But he would never admit that. 

It took Denmark years and years until he had figured it out, date after date with excitement and fun things to realise that Norway much preferred seeing the sea, going on a stroll with their hands intertwined or just a simple picnic in the mountains. Norway was also a simple person. 

Nowadays they don’t put a lot of effort into their dates anymore. Not because they don’t like it anymore or because they don’t care anymore; it’s simply because both of them are way too busy. Their phones are on almost 24/7 these days and they are flooded with messages, mails and calls all the time. They don’t find the peace and quiet for a day off together. 

Denmark doesn’t mind too much. He gets to be together with Norway most of the time anyway. They spend every weekend together and sometimes they stay in the other’s country for the week. It’s usually Norway who shows up with some lame excuse of having forgotten some papers at Denmark’s home or something that he had to discuss with the other. Denmark has learned to not question it but just welcome him in with a hug or a kiss. 

This time, it’s no different. Norway had texted him that he wanted to ask something and that he would be with Denmark around dinner time, so he should set the table for two. Denmark had smiled at the text and gone to the supermarket, picking up some extra coffee and something to eat for tonight. He felt like spoiling Norway. 

And as expected of the other, Norway showed up around dinner time, leaving his boots in the hall and rushing into the kitchen.  
“Welcome home”, Denmark greeted him with a smile. Norway didn’t respond but went in for a chaste kiss, wrapping his arms around Denmark’s neck. They stood in the kitchen for a while, foreheads touching and hearts beating nearly in synch. 

“What’s cooking”, Norway asked and peeked over Denmark’s shoulder.  
“Something delicious.” The answer didn’t satisfy Norway, but he let it slip. 

When dinner was ready, he helped Denmark carry everything to the table and took his seat. They chatted a little, Denmark calmer than you would expect him to be. Norway had that effect on him. Their feet were touching under the table, playing their own game of touching-feeling. Sometimes Denmark would try to tickle Norway. Most of the time they just caressed each other’s feet, their own way of showing their affection. 

“I want to go on a date”, Norway suddenly says. For a moment, Denmark is a little surprised, but catches himself soon after.  
“And where would you like to go?”  
The other seems to think for a bit, until he suddenly gets up.  
“You’ll see.” 

You’d think that Denmark would be used to Norway’s whims and strange moods. That he’d be able to somewhat predict what the other is going to do. But you’re wrong if you think that. Both of them still change and develop new things and thus there are always things left undiscovered about them. Norway spontaneously asking for a date is one of those new things. Denmark doesn’t mind though. 

They clean up their plates and put on their shoes. Before long, they are out the door and Norway leads the way, his hand firmly tucked into Denmark’s grasp. A gentle smile is splayed on Norway’s face, making his features softer. Denmark likes this side of Norway a lot. 

“Enjoying yourself”, he asks and listens to Norway hum in agreement. A squeeze to his hand and a smile sent to him make Denmark feel giddy inside. 

Their journey continues and Denmark appreciates the silence they walk in; the way Norway’s hands feels in his. It’s a safe feeling, as if Norway is telling him to just follow him. He’ll know the way, Norway tells him. He’ll always be there. 

Denmark is also a sap. Not as much as Norway is. But Denmark will think of poems to write when he’s with Norway. He wants to write down what he feels, write love letters and compose songs. But he never does, because he forgets about the words that formed in his head. But it’s alright. Denmark likes to look for secret meanings in glances or touches, in songs the other tells him to listen to. 

After a while, Denmark starts to realise where they are headed. There is a small patch of beach near his house, a place not many people visit. There is nothing much there, but Norway has always liked going there, because it is so quiet. They have spent hours there, just sitting and looking at the waves rolling onto the sand. Once or twice they have laid together, kissing and touching. It’s a special place to both of them. 

It seems like the perfect place to go, Denmark decides as he smiles to himself and pulls his coat closer around his body. It’s not too cold yet, but the wind has picked up. He should be used to that by now. 

They decide to not take their shoes off today. Norway fears Denmark will lose his toes if he does so, because of the cold. He himself could probably handle it, but he doesn’t want to try. They sit down, huddled close together, Norway’s shoulder and knee touching Denmark’s. Hands still intertwined, Denmark’s thumb tracing patterns over Norway’s hand. It’s peaceful. 

“It’s been a while since we’ve been here”, Denmark says and Norway nods. A while in this case means a few years. To people like them, time is a strange concept. They don’t feel it anymore; it just passes them by like water. Leaving no dents in them.

“Nothing changed though”, Norway comments a few heartbeats later. His side presses against Denmark and the other winds his arm around Norway’s shoulders.  
“Hmh. Still as beautiful as always.” Denmark presses a kiss to Norway’s forehead. 

A comfortable silence settles over them, both lost in their thoughts. The sea whispers her stories to them, speaks of times long lost. Norway remembers one particular raid with Denmark, where they had found great treasures. They had been so drunk on victory. He smiles and leans against the other. 

Denmark notices that Norway is feeling differently from normal. He’s more quiet, seems a little nervous. But he knows that there is no use in pressuring Norway. The man will tell him what’s going on in his mind when he feels like it. That is also something that took Denmark years and years to figure out. Many times Norway got angry and shut himself away when Denmark tried to ask what was going on. 

Now, he just waits patiently. He presses kisses to Norway’s forehead and nose, squeezes his hand and tries to coax him into talking. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. 

He tries to think of what could be occupying Norway’s thoughts. There’s not much, he finds. No major crisis going on, no important bills to be passed in the parliament. No exciting news going on. Maybe it’s just something minor? 

Just when he gets impatient and wants to ask what Norway is thinking about, the other moves beside him and leans in for a kiss. Norway’s other hand is resting on Denmark’s hip and pulls him closer, sharing the warmth of their bodies.

It’s not a messy kiss. It’s just a chaste one, shy and soft. They already taste of salt, Denmark notices. 

“Denmark”, Norway whispers as he pulls away from the kiss. “Denmark”, he says again. He takes both hands in his own and looks into the eyes that he has known for so long, that he has looked into countless times. He sees Denmark swallow and lick his lips. He sees the eyes dart from left to right, up and down. 

“Yes Nor?”, he asks.

“Denmark”, Norway breathes. He rests his head against Denmark’s shoulder and sighs. His right hand disappears into his pocket and he fumbles around with something. 

“Denmark.” He looks up and closes his eyes for a moment, seems to think of the words he wants to say. In the end, Norway only says ‘I love you’ and Denmark understands. Somehow, he understands. He doesn’t need to see the thing Norway is hiding in his hand. He doesn’t need Norway on one knee, he doesn’t need to hear the question Norway silently asks him. They have been together for so long, and Denmark just knows what Norway wants from him. 

It’s not something like back in the day. Norway is not asking him to become a part of him, not in the geographical sense. He is just asking Denmark to stay with him forever, to stand beside him through the troubles. Like he has done before, like Denmark will always want to do. But now they both know that the other is willing to stay. 

It’s nothing fancy, it’s nothing big. But it’s somehow sappy, and it fits them perfectly. The rings are simple and they don’t hold any ceremony. They don’t tell anyone; they just start to wear the jewellery. It’s something just meant for the two of them, a promise to the other, a reassuring ‘I will stay with you’. At least, that is what it is to Denmark, and probably to Norway too. 

It’s just for the two of them, a vow to stay together.


End file.
